Hoofin’ It: A Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count)

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Hoofin’ It: A Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count) Page 32

by RJ Blain


  “I think we have distressed our new friend,” Abil Ili murmured.

  “He’s had a long day. Someone essentially murdered him earlier today. That’s hard on a man.”

  “You would know this well, vampire.”

  “Maybe a more private audience with one or two of your soothers might be wise. While Shane isadaptable, I think he’s at his limit. His beloved was injured while he was courting her, and we had to leave her with a capable guard.”

  I bit Quinton on basic principle. Why was he telling people Marian was my beloved when I hadn’t said three most important words to her yet?

  I hadn’t had a chance to get to know her, but I recognized the truth of his words, which was why I bit him a second time and ripped his shirt in the process. The vampire laughed, subtly mocking my impotence and acknowledging he had bested me with his words.

  “Who is this capable guard?”

  Quinton switched to a fluid language, and his voice chimed from the golden crystals and rang in the air. The conversation didn’t last long, but when they finished speaking, everything had quieted, even the whispering of the wind.

  “It seems this story will be more intriguing than I believed. Humans—even ones who are almost not—are so curious.”

  “That’s part of why I brought him. That, and I thought you might enjoy a hunt worthy of you.”

  “A hunt,” Abil Ili echoed, and in his melodic voice, I could hear his longing.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve hunted together, old friend.”

  “So it has. At least two millennia, when the world was a much different place. This story. It will lead to the reason for this hunt?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Very well. We will deal with this in the sapphire garden. That should be private enough, and I think it will suit our friend better than the others. Tell me what has befallen him, so we might best soothe him.”

  “Based on the tests done in the hospital, we believe an explosion collapsed the balcony he shared with his beloved, and he fell onto his back into the canal, went under, and hit the grate. The attacker blew out the grate with more explosives, sending him onto the spillway. What we don’t know when he shifted; he may have shifted after he hit the water and went under. He’s an otter, and they’re aquatic by nature, so it’s possible he shifted and slipped through the grate before it was damaged. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing—and he may not remember. I’ve been informed most people don’t remember their first shift, and there was evidence of a concussion.”

  “His chances of survival had the grate held?”

  “Not quite zero but not good. The balcony was twenty feet above the canal surface—maybe a bit higher. I didn’t check the water level. Between the spinal damage and the organ damage, Dr. Valentine didn’t think he would’ve made it to a hospital even if someone had pulled him out right away.”

  “It intrigues me that it so often takes humans facing death to realize their full potential. I find it curious you have called our friend a child of your father’s heart when he is so fragile.” Abil Ili paused and sighed. “What other wisdom did San Valentina Gula impart?”

  “She was worried and didn’t want him to shift again until he was in her care. The human healers dislike him, for he took their evils and made them known.”

  “Coming from you, darkener of doorways, that is impressive.”

  Quinton laughed. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

  “Perhaps in a few decades. Come, then. You will be useful for this. I need you to hold him in thrall while we work.”

  “Papa will hang me from the highest tower if I bite him.”

  “I would not call it a bite, but rather a delicate nibbling—just enough to keep him from struggling, yes? If San Valentina Gula worries, then we worry, and so it goes.”

  “So it goes,” the vampire agreed with a sigh. “Sorry, Gibby. If Abil Ili thinks it’s necessary, then it’s necessary.”

  Great. I found nothing soothing about the situation, but without a way to vocalize my misgivings, I was forced to accept my fate with a heavy sigh.

  Quinton pulled me out of his jacket, looked me in the eye, and did something—something that made me a prisoner in my own body. Abil Ili reached out, and his claw pierced my shoulder near my spine. Pain flashed through my body, blinding in its intensity. When my vision cleared, I was human, sprawled on blue crystal with Quinton straddling my chest, his gaze locked on mine.

  My right arm hung limp in his hand, and without breaking our eye contact, he brought my wrist to his mouth and bit down.

  I understood why Ernesto and his brood partnered with demons; sharp but jagged teeth tearing through my skin hurt far worse than I could’ve imagined. Any other time, I would’ve screamed.

  The vampire’s bite woke every nerve in my body, and the agony in my back and chest exploded, searing away all other thought.

  “San Valentina Gula did not exaggerate,” Abil Ili murmured, and one of his hook-tipped claws traced the scar running from my brow down to my chin. With a twist of his tentacle, he stole my right eye, pulling it from the scarred socket with a soft pop. “This—now this is a disgrace. This marble. They would inflict this thing upon one of their own? It is not art, it is not magic, it is nothing—glass.”

  Quinton released my wrist; my blood stained his lips and dripped down his chin. “More soothing, less yapping.”

  Then he bit me again, latching onto my wrist, and heat flared up my arm to my head. I expected fire but got ice deep in my skull, and what started as a shiver ended as a shuddering convulsion. My world narrowed to my chest and the stabbing pain each time I struggled to draw a breath.

  I remembered the sensation; the instant I’d smacked into the canal, the air had rushed out of me, and with my next choked, gasping breath, I’d tasted blood. The water had flowed into my mouth, and I’d gone under.

  Abil Ili stroked the back of his tentacle along my jaw to my throat. The moment he hooked his claw into my neck, my entire body jerked, and my head went numb. The edges of my vision grew hazy, but I saw several more of the mosaic-skinned Babylonians approaching with their claws dripping black fluid.

  One by one, they pierced my skin with their hooks, and numbness spread from their touch.

  Quinton’s eyes remained locked on mine until I sank into a cold, dark void.

  My phone rang. If I could get my hands on the wretched device, I’d fling it as hard as I could in the hope it’d shatter into a thousand pieces.

  Wait. How could my phone be ringing? I remembered changing the ringtone on the new device to a shrill, evil sound meant to wake the dead, but I’d lost it when I’d fallen into the canal, hadn’t I? Confusion paralyzed me until I remembered I needed to breathe, and I sucked in a breath.

  “Have I ever told you that you’re the worst example of false advertising I’ve ever met, Abil Ili?” Quinton grumbled. After the third ring, my phone fell silent. “Can you explain the clothes thing?”

  “A rather useful talent for a shifter. He will enjoy not destroying his wardrobe whenever he desires to wear a fur coat,” the Babylonian murmured. “The phone woke him.”

  Great, the tentacled, clawed terror knew I was awake. “That hurt,” I rasped.

  Quinton sighed. “Well, dying typically is painful. Sorry about the bite, Gibby. There’s no way to make it hurt less without help. I didn’t want to do it like that, but you thrashing around wouldn’t have been good.”

  I shuddered at the memory of claws tearing through my skin. “That should classify as cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “You can kneecap me later as many times as you want.”

  “You don’t have enough kneecaps for me to do that.”

  “I volunteer Papa’s.”

  “Better.” I groaned, cracked open my eye, and stared up at countless sapphire crystals encrusting the distant ceiling. “What was that about clothes?”

  “When you shifted, your clothes shifted with you. I’m afraid you
r suit’s ruined; we had to cut it off you. Your phone seems to have survived, along with your wallet. Cute guns.”

  “When a lady gives you cute guns, you carry them.” I braced for pain and lurched upright, but beyond the pull of sore, aching muscles, I didn’t hurt. They’d cut my suit off, but someone had found a replacement, and it fit better than the original. “I only own one suit, so who’d you mug for this one?”

  “The determination of the Babylonians to be good hosts is unmatched. While Abil Ili and his soothers were tending to you, others decided to replace your attire.”

  “Thank you. How long have I been out?”

  “Twelve hours. All things considered, not bad. I called Papa and told him we were occupied and you were safe. I didn’t tell him what we were doing. He would’ve stormed the castle and fidgeted. It’s so very annoying when he fidgets.”

  “No kidding,” I muttered, shaking my head in the futile effort of clearing away the foggy feeling, as though my skull was stuffed full of cotton balls. Turning until I could see Abil Ili out of my left eye, I said, “Thank you.”

  “The honor is mine, my friend.” The Babylonian’s gaze shifted to Quinton. “You should tell him.”

  “Well, now I have to. And you call me a darkener of doorways.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Sighing, Quinton reclined beside me, stretching his legs and wiggling his bare toes. “I haven’t told Papa, but he’ll find out soon enough. Pierina called.”

  My phone rang again, and with my eyes narrowing in suspicion, I reached over, grabbed it, and checked the display. Although I no longer hurt, my hands shook when I fumbled with the device, and it took two attempts to answer the call. “Gibson.”

  “Shane!” Marian shrieked in my ear. “Where are you? What happened?”

  Ouch. Grimacing, I resisted the urge to toss the device away. “Give me a sec,” I requested, turning my glare to Quinton. “By any chance, did Pierina call about Marian?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay. Sorry about that. I’m planning how best to make an entire brood of bloodsuckers suffer. Would you care to join me?”

  “Yes,” Marian snarled. “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “That’s not what the doctors said. You’re not supposed to be human. You need to be at the hospital if you’re human.”

  “Marian, I’m fine. Really.” I hesitated, listening for the telltale beeps and noises I expected from a hospital. Wherever she was, it wasn’t a hospital. Distant horns honked, accompanying the familiar sounds of the city. “Where are you?”

  “Lower Chicago, contemplating killing some civic engineers. I think I’m near the canal—god, the smell.”

  The smell? “Wait, the smell?”

  Quinton flinched. “It’s not my fault.”

  With a soft, chiming laugh, Abil Ili waved his claws to claim the credit. “They broke our grate. When they restore our grate, we will restore our illusion.”

  “I see. Yes, I’ve been told the spell over the canal is down. If you follow the smell, you should find it.”

  “It makes me want to throw up.”

  I didn’t blame her. The first time I’d smelled the canal, I’d thrown up. “Head to Michietti’s. Dare I ask how you escaped the hospital?”

  “Out the window.”

  “Are you naked?”

  “No, Shane, I’m not running around Lower Chicago naked. How about you? Are you naked? Because from my understanding of the situation, you have no clothes. I’m amazed your phone survived. How’d you find it?”

  “I’m wearing clothes! A suit, for that matter.”

  Quinton snickered. “Give me the phone, Gibby.”

  “The bloodsucker wants to talk to you.” Wrinkling my nose, I handed Quinton the device. “She’s wandering Lower Chicago, probably alone, and possibly wearing nothing but a hospital gown.”

  Abil Ili’s laughter echoed in the cavern, chiming off the crystals. “I will make certain she finds her way here.”

  “If you make her feel like she’s been kidnapped, I win a bet.”

  Quinton jabbed me with his elbow. “Marian, it’s Quinton. Gibby’s quite fine, so don’t worry. What are you wearing?”

  Before I had a chance to lunge for Quinton and take my phone back, Abil Ili’s tentacles wrapped around my chest, pinned my arms to my sides, and held me in place. I was aware of the pressure of all fourteen of his claws against my skin. “Be at ease. While you are healed, you still suffer from blood loss from his bite. Be calm. We will make sure no harm comes to your beloved.”

  Since screaming ‘get it off!’ wouldn’t do me any good, I sat utterly still, aware of each pinprick of Abil Ili’s claws. Numbness spread through me, and I unwillingly relaxed into his hold.

  “Ah. I see. Yes, he had a few bad minutes, but he was perfectly safe. It was a controlled shift, supervised by those well equipped to handle all of his problems. You’ll get him back as good as new. Please keep calm. Someone is going to come get you and bring you to us. If you can get to Michietti’s, stay there with someone from my family. Until we learn who was behind the attack, you might still be a target. Yes, I understand you’re worried. Of course you are. He’s your beloved, and you’re his. That’s how it should be. Can you shift? It might be wise for you to travel with more discretion.”

  The vampire’s emphasis on his final word made me think Marian’s hospital gown was the paper kind and hadn’t survived her slinking through alleys in Lower Chicago trying to make her way across the city without being seen. I sighed.

  Abil Ili released me, and I had to concentrate to remain upright.

  “Very well. The fastest way to reach us is through the canal. Slip through where the grate is damaged. The way down is safe. When you hit the bottom, tread water. Someone will retrieve you. It’s very dark, but don’t worry. It won’t take long for someone to reach you.” Heaving a sigh, Quinton hung up and pointed my phone at me. “I’m certain this is your fault.”

  “How is it my fault?”

  “Only you would pick the most stubborn female alive outside my family for a mate.”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed until I cried, which earned me the disgust of the ancient vampire.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Within ten minutes, the numbness faded, and Abil Ili left with another Babylonian to handle preparations. He planned to take me closer to the entry to Lower Chicago, because he felt I’d be the best person to keep Marian calm so he wouldn’t have to use his claws.

  I appreciated that, since I doubted I’d be able to contain my rage if I saw them pierce her skin with their talons. I owed the Babylonians my thanks, which would make my harming them in a fit of fury even worse. Some things would never change, and I was my father’s son.

  Curling up and passing out wasn’t an option, so I got to my feet with Quinton’s help, needing his grip on my arm to stay there. “This is obviously not going to work well.”

  “It’s the blood loss. You’ll be hungry in an hour or two, but that stuff on their claws does a number on humans, and you’ve had a lot of it.”

  “What is that stuff?”

  “Hell if I know. It’s a secretion, and its effects change depending on their mood. Abil Ili is rather versatile. He can adapt his secretions within minutes. His favorite is a sedative to slow his prey—or aid in healing. You’re feeling fuzzyheaded, right?”

  “Understatement.”

  “That’s what I thought. That’s part of why you were down for so long. It takes a bit of time to work out of your system, and you got a huge dose of it. All my biting did was give them time to dose you so they could fix the real damage.”

  “Do I want to know how they did that?”

  “No. And I trust you understand you can’t tell anyone they helped you.”

  I understood. “Considering I thought the Babylonians were human, I’m pretty sure they don’t want humanity knowing they’re still around, or they wouldn’t have disappeared in the f
irst place.”

  “Good.”

  “Could you explain the whole story in exchange for not dying thing? Aren’t I walking away the winner on that one? Not that I’m not grateful—I am. It just doesn’t seem like an equivalent exchange.”

  “To those like Abil Ili, stories are worth more than gold, especially interesting stories. When they retreated from the surface, they left behind myth and legend, a puzzle and challenge to those who might seek them out. So here they are, waiting.”

  “In Chicago.”

  “They’re not the only denizens of the so-called abyss. They’re just the friendlier ones—well, friendlier if you happen to be interesting.” Quinton smirked at me. “I, of course, am very interesting.”

  “Is that what they call it nowadays?” I muttered.

  Quinton sighed. “Just stay near me. I’d rather you not fall and give yourself another concussion, and you’ll be unstable on your feet for a while yet. Once we fetch your lady, you’ll pay your part of the bargain. Then the true fun begins.”

  “Dare I ask?”

  “The Babylonians are a polyamorous colony with a very limited genetic pool; it’s so limited they’re essentially identical beyond certain markers, including gender and specific magical talents. They don’t reproduce anymore, either. Think of their community as a hive mind. If you hurt one, you hurt them all. They have no tolerance for in-fighting and disloyalty. Acts of sexual violence are exceptionally offensive to them for this reason. The instant they find out what happened to your woman, they’ll be ready to hunt. They aren’t the only Babylonians, either. Most cities have a crystal hive. They gather where there are people.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would they do that? Don’t they want to hide?”

  “I’m certain you’ve heard the legend of the Tower of Babel.” Quinton pointed at the gap in the blue crystal spears jutting from the walls. “Watch your step. The floors are a bit slick, and you’re going to be a wobbly for a while.”

  Wobbly was an understatement. I needed to lean on the vampire to walk in a straight line. “I walk better than this when drunk,” I complained.

 

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